


Dance with Me

by Delirioustarot



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff without Plot, M/M, Minor Violence, Poetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:35:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29345982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delirioustarot/pseuds/Delirioustarot
Summary: More technoboo fluff because my poetic soul aches for this pair xoxo
Relationships: Ranboo/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 172





	Dance with Me

**Author's Note:**

> People seemed to like Soft Storms, so here’s more Technoboo fluff xoxo I wrote this so flowery and poetic i stg. Based around the tales from the smp masquerade universe...kinda

The music echoed against the walls of the room, bewitching the masked dancers within. Ranboo couldn't remember the name of the song, but he knew for a fact it was a dark waltz; One that fit the dreary theme of the masquerade perfectly. Everyone, but him, was dancing it seemed. All dressed in shadowed clothing, barely any color was seen under the void of black, however, he preferred it to that of bright colors anyways. He wondered to himself why he was still watching in the first place. After all, there was almost no point for him to. To this crowd he was, as usual, an outcast and a commoner.

Leaning against the wall, through his pearl and onyx colored mask, he watched. His eyes, icey cold and calculating, were bored as the marionettes danced their parts. Not to say they were dolls, only that they danced as such. Such precise movements, so eerily perfect, that it seemed unnatural. Maybe he was the unnatural one. He shook off the thought. 

The skip of his heart, seeing a specific man clothed in coal and crimson jewels, dragged him out of his thoughts. He was the only reason Ranboo was allowed here in the first place. Sir Billiam, or as he knew him, Techno, his master. His one and only. The most beautiful man and graceful dance Ranboo had ever laid eyes on. His movements were captivating, alluring, almost magical. However, his eyes were the most enchanting; While Ranboo may have mispaired eyes: a green eye, deeper than the depths of the forest, and a red eye, shining like the egg that wrapped it’s vines around him. He had eyes of amber and honey, shining a bright gold in the light that people desperately tried to grab, holding the magnitude of a black hole. Not even the storm of Ranboo's eyes could sweep away the weight, the abyss, that was Techno's eyes.

But what drew Ranboo to him in the first place wasn't his dancing, nor was it his stunning eyes, rather it was the fact he was alive. Every move he made, every spoken word, he held the light of hope in his eyes, and Ranboo envied it. The young man's mismatched painted eyes had been dull far too long; Light stolen by an unfair witch with a tarnished silver tongue paired with the beauty of a god. He tied strings around his being, and drained nearly every once of life from him. Crushing his freshly healed heart with an iron fist, a patronizing, faux, innocent smile laced with poison on his perfectly masked face. It was fair to say he had broken Ranboo in most every way.

The music was slowing down and the waltz would be over soon. Had he truly been that lost in his thoughts that the time had slipped past his normally careful grasp? The clock ticking to midnight, it was nearly time to cut the strings. He met the rich eyes of his master. He could read the other like an open book. It was ever so easy as the lights cut out. The sword cut through the guests like butter. Bodies tumbled quickly, the tall man was always eager to please the richer in any way he could. Screams died out with the stalling music, cooling blood sticking to the soles of his shoes. 

Mismatched eyes hesitantly moved to meet Techno’s. He wanted approval, praise, a small smile of pride. Anything. He was fueled by the bits and pieces of validation the other gave to him in secret. Long fingers decked in gold rings motioned the servant over. His brain was hazy from the rush. Soft and worn dress shoes clicking on the oak floors were muted. Some part of him noted it would take ages to get the new stains out.

Ranboo practically gilded to the other, immediately kneeling before him. This was his master, his god, his everything. He had devoted his life to serve him and do whatever he asked. The richer placed a crown of gold and red on the butler's head, one woven in vines and various gems. The receiver flusters and stutters as the older man makes him light up like a sunset. So gentle his hands are as they intertwine with the other pulling him up, eyes cannot seem to move from that rare smile shining so bright. Tilting his chin to face his, breath hitched, cheeks are redder than the wine on his lips. 

He tugs Ranboo to him, with one kiss he has him in a puddle of euphoric bliss. Brain buzzing he cannot even imagine heaven better than this. Steady he goes, pulling away from a shaky form running his hands through fluffed hair in repose. Murmuring softly those beautiful words both know to be true, and with all his being he loves him too.

“Beloved, dance with me.” It wasn’t a question. His voice was sultry and the demand rolled off his tongue like it was there since the start of the night. Some part of Ranboo hoped it was. The music was playing again, it was softer, lighter. Perfectly sweet in the way that only lovers could understand. Honey eyes that glow in the light, mouth with a pretty smile so bright. He knew better than to be blinded by his darling. The more he saw in these pools of honey, the more of a mystery he could find. Darkness, so ink black he could drown. 

They practically float across the floor. Methodically twisting and turning to avoid the sacrifices for their love. As long as they had one another it didn’t matter. Amber toned eyes gazed into the others, desire pouring unsung words that dipped heat to his core. How easily he could have the ender hybrid pinned, fragile throat crushed so tightly he couldn’t make a sound. Lips parted in a gentle plea, wishing he could beg for the piglin hybrid. Beautiful red lines given in pure heat, eyes rolling back. 

Ranboo couldn't look away from the other, the only God he could ever worship. Fingers gripped tightly under his chin again, tilted down yet again. Focusing on candy eyes dripping in delicate hunger, that's all he needed for eternity. How badly he wanted to be roughly pushed onto shaking knees, watching smirk etching onto Techno’s face so perfectly. Arms dipping down in a falling move, trust between them is always true. 

“Don't forget it, my beloved. You belong to me.” Perfectly murmured syllables turning pale skin to rosy rush. Flushed pink virtue has always been a vice of the rich man; Sugar dusted lips tempting Techno’s composure. God complex veiled his masked face while carnations crowned his lovers. Cherry laced perfume with honey highlights on the butlers lace. How shaking hands tangled in curling sunset strands while he kisses the other with wine tinted lip stains. 

Faint tattoos of lips on harlequin cheeks with giggles of music on a repeating record. Warmth overflowing from touch, burning up eachothers skin. Telling each other lovely prayers while undoing the tightened bows as backs begin to bend. Sinners truly through and through, but always worth it to be lovers.

Neither will voice too much. Techno believes his love is like sweet peaches, watching juice dripping down his chin in the humid heat. Sticky sugar coating skin when the bitter heat isn't too sweet. They are cinnamon and peppermint swirl daydreams wrapped inside each other. On the days Ranboo finds himself losing sleep, his master is the only reason he finds some peace. Strawberries and cream dripping on perfectly smooth skin, to the gods the one another could pray to worship every single inch. Silken hair with ocean waves, strawberry tint, and halo glaze. They both think: How my love is so beautiful is beyond me.


End file.
